


You’ve done enough

by Deathhvvalley



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Gay, Gay Sex, Hidden Relationships, M/M, Oral Sex, WW2
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:00:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22304554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deathhvvalley/pseuds/Deathhvvalley
Summary: Patrick Martin Stumph, an American soldier fighting in Europe, struggles with finding his purpose in life.
Relationships: Patrick Stump/Pete Wentz
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	You’ve done enough

War was hard, of course it fucking was. I'd seen the toughest, most muscular guys lay on the floor with their guts hanging out, screaming and crying for their mama to come save them. But I've also seen the scrawny, whiny little shits survive the entire war without a god damn scratch. It's all about luck, I ain't no religious man but Jesus, I prayed a lot. One of the hardest things I had to deal with was the fact that after this fucking war I'd have nothing left. No family to go home to, no wife no kids nothing. I either died in the war or

there was no other option for me.

I heard horror stories about the guys who got stuck in Japan, they got dropped off and then the navy went away, left them to starve for weeks. I counted myself lucky, I was in France for most of it, then Germany. Saw guys go insane, some said it was shell shock, I just thought they were addicted to killing these Nazi bastards. The end of the war was good, no real casualties on our part, and we were pretty much left to do whatever we wanted. On one of the days I found a bakery.

"How much salami are you planning to eat, Trohman?" I looked over at the soldier who was stuffing his face with the stuff with one hand, using the other to jam even more salami in his combat pack. Joe looked up at me, a grin on his face, he swallowed and held up the salami like a trophy. "This? You see this shit, Stumph? It's got flavour, real flavour!" I heard someone laugh behind me, fucking Hurley. "No respect at all to those Nazi sons of bitches, but god damn they know how to make salami."

"Leave him alone, Patrick." Andy murmured, I could hear him shuffling around a bit before he paused. "These fucking bitches... Patrick they've got cake. Chocolate cake. Are you kidding me?" He looked over at me and I finally looked up from eating my slice of bread. "My folks are probably starving at home and they're burning people alive and eating chocolate fucking cake." Andy spat, clearly getting Joe's attention. "Cake?"

These two, these two fucking idiots, saved my life many times during this nightmare of a war. Not physically, I was only injured a couple of times, but I would've gone insane if it wasn't for Trohmans stupid jokes and songs and Hurley's... well just Hurley in general. I'll miss them after the war. They both came from Illinois too, but that doesn't mean shit. My Grandad was English and fought in WW1, but he didn’t see any of his “brothers” after the war and they lived in the same god damn county."Yeah there's cake, help yourself, man." Joe was literally a kid in a candy store "I can't put any of this in my pack..." as he tuck into the cake, at least having the decency to grab a fork, I looked around for something actually of value. It must've been clear too.

"You looking for a lighter?" Andy grinned, pulling a small metal lighter out of his pocket and throwing it to me. "Why the fuck do you have a lighter, Hurley?" Andy didn't smoke, or drink. Which was good for me and Joe, Andy had a good eye for finding this stuff and he'd give it straight to us. I never smoked back home, thought it was a nasty gross habit, but it was a nice distraction out here. The Germans had good tobacco. "Found it, got some more smokes somewhere." He looked around in his pack before pulling out three cardboard boxes, putting them on the table between me and him. "Aw thanks man, it's like Christmas."

"Some guys are coming." Joe was looking out of the window, the three of us were having a little break from stuffing our faces. "Saporta? Tell him to fuck off." Gabe Saporta was a lanky cocky guy who liked to tease and piss me off just because I had strawberry blonde hair, I'm not a fucking ginger. "Nah that ain't Saporta... who the hell are these guys?" Joe looked back at us, Andy rolling his eyes and standing up to look out the window too. "Fuck, Stumph get your ass over here." I stood up and walked over, furrowing my eyebrows. "Uh... who are these guys?" They were heading straight towards us too. Andy looked at me "4th division, fuck. They always think they're fucking better than us." Most of us had been in the war for the same time, all started on D-Day and then went our separate ways if we were lucky enough to survive.

I knew one of the corporals, Peter Wentz. He was a bit well known round here, so was I and a few other guys. Word spreads fast I guess, especially gossip. Long story short a select few of us were sodomites, homosexuals, gays, faggots however you wanna say it. We knew how to keep it on the down low though, yeah word spreads fast but even the others knew not to let it spread to the higher ups. Well me and Pete celebrated together after D-Day. We had seen some shit and survived, I barely had a scratch on me. And well.. he was fucking good if you know what I mean.

"Cocky bastards..." Joe grumbled to himself, this one guy leading the group was rubbing at his face with a rag so I couldn't get a good look at him. But he opened the door to the bakery, signalling to the guys behind him to go explore. He put the rag back in his pocket and my stomach fucking dropped. It was Peter fucking Wentz.

"Private's..." Pete raised an eyebrow and looked over the three of us. "Fifth division?" Andy responded for us "yes corporal." Pete nodded and looked around the place "Any food left?" I responded this time "Yeah, enough bread and cakes and salami to last us til the end of the war." His eyebrow raised again "You counting on it ending soon, Private... uh..." he gestured for me to tell him my name. So he didn't remember me? I didn't know if what I was feeling was relief or anger. I didn't ride his dick on the beach of Normandy for him to not remember my fucking name. "Stumph." Pete nodded. "And yes, Hitlers dead, those death camps are empty. There's not a war to fight anymore."

Pete nodded, chuckling a bit “I hope you’re right. Where are you staying? Any sleeping arrangements been made? We’ve just come in from Thuringia, absolute shit-hole.” Ah, yeah I’d heard about the camp there, the first concentration camp we liberated. The Nazis knew they were finished, so they shot as many “prisoners” as they could and then locked the gates, leaving them to starve to death. And when we found out why they were actually in there I... man that shit’s in-humane. Don’t get me wrong, America ain’t pro-jew and pro-gay and all that shit, but we ain’t walking around throwing people in camps and using them as slaves. Joe threw up when he heard why they were in there, he walked around proudly showing the Star of David on one of his chains to all the bastards we fought. Telling them he was a “Jude” before killing them. It was revenge if anything.

So this Pete guy was at the camp, fuck. Yeah he really does need a good nights rest. “We’re all over the place, Urie’s told us Berlin is ours now, there’s empty houses everywhere.” Pete seemed pretty happy at this prospect. “And you’re staying?...” he lead off, Joe gestured to the bakery. “There’s an apartment upstairs that we’re gonna stay in.” Pete nodded “Well, I’m exhausted, I’m going to get some rest.” We all nodded, there was a shit ton of room up there, even if we end up sleeping on the floor I don’t think any of us will complain. Better than sleeping on a pile of rocks. “Stumph, can you bring some food up to me in about an hour?” Bit odd, but not the worst command I’ve been given, and no it wasn’t a question. He’s just nice enough to make it seem like I have a choice. “Yes sir.”

The hour passed by pretty quickly, me and Joe were smoking and Andy was talking about what he wanted to do when he got back home. “Wanna finish college.” I raised an eyebrow “you ain’t finished it yet?” He shook his head, me and Joe looked at each-other “So Saporta’s been talking shit about you being a smart college boy and you ain’t even finished it yet?” He shook his head. Joe put out his cigarette on the wall, throwing it in the garbage can after. “What did you study anyway?” Andy smiled at us “medicine. Want to be a doctor like my dad.” Joe nudged me “what are you gonna do, Stumph?” I paused for a few moments, this whole war I had the mindset that I wouldn’t even last a month. But now I actually had to think of a plan. “I... I don’t really know, might go into music.” Joe grinned “gonna be the next Sinatra, huh?” I just shrugged.

I grabbed some bread and salami and cheese and walked upstairs, finding Pete dead asleep in the master bedroom. I understand why I slept with him last year, he was a good looking guy. I put the food down on the little nightstand, the noise must have woken him up because he sat up and gave me a little grin. “Thank you. I’ve been living off of corned beef for too long.” I chuckled a bit “Yeah, I feel your pain there, sir.” He gestured to the chair near the bed, I sat down. Even though I knew him from before I didn’t really know him, it was nice to talk to a fresh face. “How are you doing then, Stumph?”

“Can’t complain, Sir. No broken bones, still got my sight, my hearing. Not starving either.” Pete nodded “Good... excited to go home?” Again, ouch. “I’m excited to see my brother again, he’s... in japan somewhere.” I saw him visibly tense at that “And he’s okay?” Japan was rough, like I said earlier, the guys got ditched there, then went to Australia then back to Japan it was a bit of a train wreck. The conditions seemed hard, the Japs weren’t nice either. Flame throwers, and bombs and just... yeah it wasn’t too surprising when you heard the death toll of our troops over there. The Japs were playing fucking dirty. “Haven’t received any telegrams.”

We sat and talked for a while as he ate his food “Where are you from, Patrick?” I didn’t tell him my name, my last name yes, but not my Christian name. I paused and furrowed my eyebrows at him “Glenview Illinois... I didn’t tell you my name, Sir.” Pete stuttered, our eyes locking. He was nervous, he wasn’t showing it but he seemed tense. “You- I.. you must’ve.” Pete chuckled, brushing it off. “You remember me. You stupid son of a bitch.” In any other circumstance I wouldn’t dare to talk to a higher rank like that. But I was getting real sick of these games.

“I- look, I apologise... but I didn’t think it would ever have to come to this I thought you’d.. it’s morbid but I thought we wouldn’t see eachother.” I stopped him from continuing “You thought I’d die, huh?” Pete stayed silent, looking up at me. “You didn’t tell anyone?..” I shook my head, scoffing. “I ain’t stupid.”

“Good... what are Trohman and Hurley like?” I knew what he meant, but wanted to drag it out of him. “They’re good people.” It worked, he huffed, his glance at me turning into a glare. “Are they?...”

“They’re not faggots if that’s what you’re thinking, Wentz. But they’re still good people, won’t rat us out.” Pete seemed satisfied with my response. “Us? You think I’m queer, Stumph?”

“You seemed pretty queer when you had my cock in your mouth.”

Pete let out a sharp laugh, it was ugly, but charming. All of Pete was charming. “Good point. I like you, Stumph. Sharp tongue.” I grinned. “You look good. Lost some weight?” Cocky bastard. “Haven’t we all? Rations are tough.” He was right though, I’d lost my baby fat, even built up some muscles. Pete chuckled, eyes scanning over my body. “They are.. but you do look good... real real good.” His tone sent a shiver down my spine. I let out a little breath, watching him sit up; I could practically feel his eyes strip me down. “Good enough to eat?”

He lunged forward to consume me, his tongue pushing into my mouth, drawing out little moans and grunts. Suddenly I was on his lap, our hands all over each-other, tugging at all of the layers that now seemed stupid. Too many clothes, way too many clothes. I finally got Pete’s shirt off of him, pulling away from his mouth to lick over his chest. He was a pretty thing, too handsome to be straight. Girls just can’t treat a man the same way another man can. Pete seemed aware of this too, eager for my touch. “I’ve thought about your mouth, Private. God I’ve missed it.” I grinned against his skin, sucking an impressive bruise just above his collarbone, enjoying his moans. “Touched yourself thinking of me?” I whispered, looking up at him; remembering from last time how much he loves my eyes.

“Fuck- of course I have... many nights I wished my hand was replaced with the softness of your mouth.” I moaned, leaning up to kiss him again, our hands now working at getting my pants down. The look on Pete’s face was hunger, I grabbed his chin and made him look at me. “You’re starving for it aren’t you?” He nodded weakly, a shuddered moan slipping from his parted lips, now wet from his tongue sliding over them. “Go on then, Corporal. I ain’t gonna stop you.”

Pete slid to the floor, keeping my legs parted with his hands that then slid to my ass as he slid down my boxers. He sucked me down greedily, looking up at me with those beautiful caramel eyes. I ran a hand through his hair, god damn he was loving this. Sucking me down like it was the last thing he’d do. It might be the last time he ever has a cock in his mouth. The war would be over soon, we’d have to go back home and get a stable job, a nice house and wives and kids, the full white picket fence experience. You couldn’t be gay and live a full life, couldn’t get married to another guy, definitely couldn’t just date one either. Like I said, we ain’t as bad as the Nazis, but I ain’t really in the mood for being thrown in prison and becoming an outcast to society just because I like dick up my ass.

Those thoughts soon washed away as my orgasm creeped up on me, Pete was good with his tongue, his hand doing wonders on my balls too. I came deep down his throat and he swallowed, of course he swallowed. He pulled away and grinned at me, I cupped his cheek and rubbed under his eye. “Good boy..” I murmured, tugging him up to kiss him.

We laid naked together in bed that night, my hands trailing over his body and my lips pressing kisses into his neck. Pete had fallen asleep, a satisfied smile on his face, completely spent. I pressed our foreheads together, pulling the covers over us and holding him closer. Sleep quickly came over me, the comfy bed definitely aided this. But it was mostly being next to Pete that relaxed me, he was warm and soft.

I didn’t want the war to end.


End file.
